


Headliners

by TheMonsterGhost



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2669630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMonsterGhost/pseuds/TheMonsterGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy, one-shot drabble about Marcus and Jake having a very serious argument.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headliners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZeNami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeNami/gifts).



Neither Marcus nor Jake realized how long she’d been around. A faithful member of staff, serving the Vansten manor since before Jake had been around. She kept her job by not asking for a raise or speaking out of line. Or at all. She came to work on time; not early and not late. She left when it was time to leave and she did her job flawlessly. The rooms were clean, the beds were made, the parties were catered, the curtains were pulled…

They barely knew her name. And that was fine. Everything was just fine.

The Vansten name developed a dry spell. Not that Marcus Vansten was any less rich but he hated to see a local newspaper that didn’t include his name somewhere. Jake didn’t care for it either. It showed a lack of public interest, which neither would stand for. Marcus Vansten was Night Vale’s richest, and most interesting, citizen, hands down. He would no sooner lose public interest than he would lose every dime of his fortune.

So they threw a party, inviting half the town. It was a big affair, like something you’d read out of a book. Especially if the book you were reading was The Great Gatsby. The lights and glamour and society! It didn’t need to take place in New York in order to bedazzle the night sky and flood with various celebrities and big wigs. It was Marcus goddamn Vansten’s manor. That was all it needed to be successful.

The servant woman was practically nameless to her employers and so she remained nameless. But she was content, as well. She placed glasses of brandy on a circular tray, balanced very carefully on the tips of her fingers, and then skirted out into the crowd.

She was just in time for the show.

“I can’t turn my back on you for a second without you destroying everything I work hard to keep in order. Not only that, but you can’t even keep your damn pants on while you’re doing it. And I mean that in more ways than one.”

“Damn, Jake, didn’t realize I hired you to suck the life out of the party. You must be getting pretty full on all that fun; you might wanna slow down. Save some for the rest of us.”

She smiled, shaking her head and offering up drinks.

“Excuse me,” said a familiar voice, waving her over with a gesture that didn’t draw more attention than absolutely necessary.

“A drink, sir?” she asked, “Brandy?”

The man blinked in surprise, taking a glass from the tray. “Brandy?” he echoed, taking a sip. It was the second best brandy he’d ever had and only because he would, one day in the future, attend a similar party and Marcus Vansten would personally invite him to have a glass of only the very best quality. But that was for the future and at the time, it was the very best brandy the man had ever had. “Don’t these parties usually have… I don’t know, wine? Champagne?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, “and we have wine and champagne if you wish. We also have—“

“Oh, no,” he said, “I don’t care, this is the good stuff, right here. Mmhmm, I’m just speaking out loud here. It’s a force of habit that comes from my job… Or maybe, it is a habit that helped grant me my job.”

“Ah,” she nodded, realizing where she’d heard his voice, “Cecil. From the radio.”

He smiled proudly. “Always warms my heart to know that public radio is still a—“

“You want me to take off my pants? I’ll take off my pants, Jake, I swear, I’ll do it.”

“I don’t doubt it, sir. I’d rather you didn’t but I know that reasoning with you is like dealing with a particularly rambunctious toddler.”

“Hmm…” Cecil hummed. He pointed at the couple from behind his palm, raised like a curtain to hide the fact that he was pointing. He said, “Do they do this often?”

The servant laughed quietly, eyeing the two adoringly. “It’s all a show,” she admitted, shifting the glasses on her tray to disperse their weight more evenly. “The press eats it up. Headlines that say, ‘Vansten’s Lovelife: Not as Rich as His Wallet’ and such things. They love it. The press. The masters. Mr Vansten and Mr Lin are having the time of their lives.”

Cecil squinted suspiciously, wondering if it could be true. But he imagined his beloved Carlos and how it wasn’t out of the question for them to do something so outrageous and silly. Fighting just for fun. Just to get the town to talk. What fun, that could be, Cecil thought. Especially when everyone was paying attention.

“So… this sort of thing… doesn’t usually happen?”

“Oh,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “It happens all the time. But! Not like this. It is… sweeter. They love each other very much, you see. Mr Lin wants what is best for the Vansten business but he loves it most when Mr Vansten is himself. They are… meant to stand this way. Side by side.”

Cecil nodded, letting the words shape the picture in front of him. He could see it in their eyes, now that it was brought to his attention. There were glimmers of mischief and hints of delight hiding behind their barking facades. And Cecil couldn’t help but hope that people could see in his relationship what the servant saw in theirs.

As the couple departed (to ‘discuss this privately,’ they said), Cecil looked about. The servant woman was gone, his drink was refilled, and the press was already brainstorming headliner ideas.

In the other room, Marcus Vansten and Jake Lin were clinking glasses and laughing, sharing a bottle of wine that the public would never see. They shared a private joke and then they shared their lips, kissing deeply until they had been forgotten about. The party raged on, the music turned up and the lights dimmed down, so they made all the noise they pleased.

The servant found them in the morning, covered by a blanket of golden feathers and surrounded by empty bottles of wine. And lubricant.

She said nothing. She only smiled as she gave the room a quick clean and then headed out. The manor was spotless and the newspapers were left next to the coffee pot for the boys to enjoy reading once they awoke.

Marcus would be the first to read it, although Jake would be the first to spot it. He was making coffee while Marcus sat nearby, contemplating the shape of his lover’s ass. Jake spotted Marcus’ face on the front page and tossed the paper to the table with a smirk.

Marcus cleared his throat and said, “Marcus Vansten’s Secret Affairs! Exclusive interview with Cecil Palmer of the radio broadcast, Welcome to Night Vale. ‘He just can’t keep his pants on!’ Turn to page 8…”

With a laugh, the angel thought of inviting the radio host over for a proper drink. “Looks like he caught on,” Jake said.

“And he’s playing along. Smart guy. Wonder how many front pagers I could land if I spread a little gossip on his radio show?”

“Control yourself, sir,” grinned Jake, rolling his eyes. And he kissed Marcus as he placed their coffees on the table and himself in the angel’s lap.

**Author's Note:**

> Marcus Vansten and Jake are characters from WTNV and therefore belong to Joseph Fink and Jeffery Cranor. The headcanons I was using, however, came from ZeNami. Check out their tumblr (zenamiarts) for some great WTNV headcanons and art and stuff!


End file.
